


Close Your Eyes and Open Your Heart

by lamarcelaise



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, Fluff, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamarcelaise/pseuds/lamarcelaise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on the e/R tag on the Tumblr: "I just want a fic where Courfeyrac, unable to stand the thought of his friend sad, keeps setting up dates for Grantaire with his various acquaintances (because hello, Courf knows everyone.) Then, when Grantaire starts actually enjoying himself, Enjolras gets cutely jealous because he doesn’t have R’s whole attention anymore. </p><p>Then, bam, they kiss and R forgets about everyone else and Enjolras is happy because R has eyes for no one other than him. (◡‿◡✿)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Your Eyes and Open Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt posted by Tumblr user enjolraspermitsit. 
> 
> I have things that I should be working on: other stories that I should be writing and cleaning to be done; but I needed a distraction, and this served that purpose very well.

"And on Saturday, you can go out with René--"

"Courfeyrac."

"If you want some time to yourself, I understand that, but Paul-Henri has been looking for a good time--"

"Courfeyrac."

"--and he's free on Tuesday, but I could probably swing it for Wednesday since I know that you have that--"

_"COURFEYRAC!"_

Grantaire had been trying to get his friend's attention for nearly the entire time that he had been talking (and when Courfeyrac starts talking, he practically never stops). Finally, blessedly, the dandy shut his mouth and looked inquisitively at his friend. 

"Yeah?" he responded, as if he hadn't even heard Grantaire saying his name _just about fifty God-damned times_. Honestly, Grantaire thought with a slight grimace, he probably hadn't. 

"I don't want to go on any dates."

"What! That's ludicrous, my dear friend." Courfeyrac laughed, a little nervously, as if he was afraid that the other had gone completely mad and would suddenly attack him in some sort of rabid fit. 

"No, it's not," Grantaire responded, crossing his arms. "I don't want to go on blind dates with complete strangers."

"But it will be fun!"

"Not for me! Besides, you know how I feel about--"

"Yes 'Aire," Courfeyrac cut him off, holding up a hand, "I do. That's why you need this. Get your mind off of it for once... sans drinking," he added quickly. "You'll start to feel better. Trust me."

Grantaire sighed. "You're not going to let me get out of this, are you?"

"Nope!" Courfeyrac chirped, wide grin plastered across his face. 

Another sigh escaped the cynic, this time one of defeat. "Fine. What was this about Saturday?"

"Ah, René! Charming young man, really, I met him at--" 

Grantaire let loose a third sigh, slumping back in his chair and clutching a bottle of wine possessively. This was going to be a long, long evening. 

___

The first date was completely dismal. René had had to take a rain-check due to a sudden emergency, for which he apologised profusely, and Grantaire was stuck with the first guy that Courfeyrac could find who was still available on a Saturday night: an uppity asshole who disdained everything that Grantaire said and did, only took him at face value, and pissed him off in the worst way. Grantaire had ended up getting up and leaving less than half-way through the evening, throwing a few Euros at the bastard so that he wouldn't get any complaints about not paying for his meal or anything. 

The next date was with a man named Michel, and it was a little better. He was a hockey player, and very interested in the sport. Honestly, it wasn't so great, and Grantaire ended up drinking himself into oblivion just to escape the boredom of having nothing in common with the man. Still, it was thousands of times better than whatever-the-hell-his-name-was. 

The man after that was a musician named Armand. They talked a lot about music, and Armand proved himself to be knowledgeable on music of all kinds. He wouldn't be someone that Grantaire would especially want to keep in contact with, but at least he enjoyed himself that night. 

His following date was actually pretty enjoyable. René was finally available, and he didn't disappoint. He was a history student, really interested in ancient western civilisations, but he cracked jokes like a drunken Bahorel. Grantaire was happy that he was able to hold intelligent conversation about Greek mythology, and still laugh his ass off when the immature bastard blew his straw wrapper across him at the table, prompting the both of them to have a straw-wrapper fight that nearly got them banned from the restaurant (apparently, René was also a very smooth talker). 

Grantaire would probably never be interested in him romantically or sexually (he was too masculine, not serious enough, good friend material but definitely not his type in the romantic department; he preferred blond idealists, himself), but he had just made a new friend, and he was actually enjoying himself without destroying his liver. 

All in all, Grantaire had been enjoying himself more and more, and honestly, he almost started to look forward to Courfeyrac telling him that he had another date for him. 

Enjolras, however, was not so happy with the arrangement. While he was glad that his friend finally seemed happy, he wasn't honestly sure what to do without the other man's attention, however annoying it always had been to him. He wasn't sure how to react to not having that slurred voice interrupting his speeches (which he almost instinctively paused for, now), telling him that he was just going to get everyone killed. 

So, as he did with all of his problems, he went to talk to his best friend. Combeferre was always ready with an open ear and a cup of something hot and caffeinated, and this time was no different. 

"I just... I don't know. I know it seems completely childish -- is completely childish -- but I just... I'm not used to not being the centre of his attention, I suppose. And previously, I would have honestly thought it a blessing. A reprieve from Grantaire's drunken heckling? Yes, please!" Enjolras ran a hand through his tangled golden locks and sighed. "But now... I don't know. Now he's not so drunk, and he's happy; he's starting to shine through his self-made shell as that person that I know he can be if he just lets himself. What makes it unbearable, though, is that he's rarely around anymore. I suppose it's one of those cases of 'you don't know what you have until it's gone'..." 

Combeferre had been listening, nodding along whenever appropriate, and sipping at his tea with a collected air that, in that moment, made Enjolras feel both comforted and completely jealous. 

"My advice would be to talk to him about it," Combeferre, predictably, answered, after a long pause (which Enjolras had also expected). 

"What, and tell him, 'hey, Grantaire. I know that we don't get along, we fight like cats and dogs, but your happiness is making me uncomfortable because I'm a selfish, jealous ass who can't fathom not being the centre of your attention'? No, thank you," Enjolras answered with a certain incredulity. 

Combeferre shrugged. "I can't really give any advice other than that. You two need to talk this through. As I'm not you, and I'm not him, I'm not completely qualified to have this conversation with you." 

Enjolras sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to successfully argue with Combeferre. He never could. Combeferre, in turn, smirked ever so slightly; he knew Enjolras as well as Enjolras knew him, and he always knew just when he made the other give up. 

"Fine, I'll talk to him," he grumbled, taking a large (and rather painful) gulp of his just-barely-cooling coffee. 

That conversation was what led Enjolras, the next day, to be at his friend's apartment, pacing back-and-forth on the stoop. Every so often, he would bring his hand up to knock, and then bring it back down, grumble something to himself, and begin pacing again. Just as he was about to knock (really, he was this time!), the door opened, showing a rather amused (and amazingly sober and dapper-looking) Grantaire. 

"Any reason why the great Apollo is blessing my doorstep?" he sniggered as he fumbled with his green-striped cravat. 

A slight flush coloured the blond's cheeks as he murmured something to himself that sounded a lot like, "I was just about to knock." Looking into the blue eyes of his friend (Enjolras always made eye contact with others; how did he miss just how damn blue they were?) he asked, "May I come in, or are you too busy?" he looked the other up and down, pointedly examining the other's dress. 

"Nah, I don't really have anywhere to be for a little while. Just wanted to get ready now instead of leaving it last minute and freaking myself the fuck out, y'know?" Grantaire grinned and stepped aside. "C'mon in. Make yourself at home." 

Enjolras entered, taking his shoes off respectively in the foyer, but not allowing himself to get too comfortable. He was here on business, as far as he was concerned. 

Just as he was trying to figure out in his head just what to say and just how to say it (he had written several speeches when he was at home, but none of them seemed right now, and he was fumbling in his own mind to quickly either mix them all together or compose a new one entirely), Grantaire walked back into the room and, for whatever reason, all coherent thought left Enjolras in his complete frustration. There was absolutely no reason for him to act the way that he did, and if you asked later he would never be able to explain it, but just as Grantaire was about to open his mouth to say something, Enjolras took the few steps necessary to place him just centimetres away from the other; and, without any sort of hesitation or explanation, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. 

He never knew that he had wanted it, but seeing the other finally starting to live up to his potential made him realise, at least on an unconscious level, that he really wanted this; and besides that, when he pulled back, the shocked look on the cynic's face was so completely worth it. 

"I... I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," Enjolras murmured, not moving back even a bit, not seeming truly sorry in the slightest. 

Grantaire laughed, sounding half-mad, not sure what to make of this. 

"Perhaps... I should go?" The blond man didn't mean for it to come out as a question. After a brief, hesitant moment, he added, "I mean, you obviously have a prior engagement..."

Grantaire shook his head. "I can call it off easily," he whispered, leaning closer carefully, as if the slightest movement would shatter the fragile moment before him. 

"Are you sure?" Enjolras, too, began to move closer. 

The cynic only nodded, and Enjolras closed the distance between the two. 

His blind dates had been fun, but this was so much more important. He called Courfeyrac, fumblingly trying to explain that he had something a bit more pressing to attend to. Courfeyrac wasn't buying it, initially, but then Enjolras said, "Is that Courfeyrac?" stole the telephone from him and spoke into it: "Grantaire is, regrettably, taken. If that's a problem, you can take it up with his lawyer." The blond's smirk could probably be heard from over the telephone; the two of them tended to joke with each other about law school a bit more than strictly necessary. 

Yes, his blind dates had been fun, but now he had Enjolras, and he was happy, whereas before, he had only been content; and Enjolras was both happy and content, glad to be back into his position as the other man's focal point.


End file.
